Poppalina

Introducing the Craftorialist

A Kapinny post

Not content with having a craft overload, and a co-authorial position with Popplina, I have started a new project that, with any luck, won't be finished for a very long time.

The Craftorialist is a new blog of inspirations, instructions, pictures and patterns, in which I share my technical expertise with anyone interested in textile-based craft. It's brand new, so there's only a few posts to see right now, but I will keep adding to it over time.

Feel free to drop by and have a look, ask a question, make a comment or—hell—add it your reader!

thecraftorialist.com

Easy winder

A Kapinny post

I thought the unpicking was going to be epic, despite the new yarn winder.

But thanks to Bernadette at the Happy Hookers crochet club on Sunday, it SO wasn't. As I pulled, she wound. It was hard to keep up.

Which meant that at the end of a very short time, I had a pile of watermelon pink wool/silk yarn balls instead of a too-tight sweater.

We decided that my hook size was correct for the tension and the stitches, so I just need to go up a size in the pattern for the sweater to fit me right.

Many thanks, Bernadette!

Craft overload ...

A Kapinny post

Ever feel like you have started too many projects already, but you keep wanting to start more before you're even close to finishing the others?

I'm knitting a poncho/cape thingy, which should be gorgeous and warm when it's done. It's in a gorgeous 4-ply wool, and it's just over a metre long on both sides, so it's a longer term project.

I've finished the crochet pullover (pattern here), which would be great, except it's just too small, and I'm going to have to unpick it all and make it again, bigger.

There's another couple of babies I'd like to knit or crochet something for, and that should be soon, while they're still new.

And I know the dearest little two year old who needs a jumper.

I'm part way through I don't know how many sewing projects, but I really need a new pair of warm trousers.

One day a week in the studio just ain't enough, y'know?

Happy Hookers' crochet club

A Kapinny post

Every third Sunday of the month, if I have the time, I go to a meeting of crocheting cronies.

We sit on an assortment of old sofas, at an organic food market, and crochet.

Bernadette helps anyone who's in need of technical assistance.

She was wearing a rather lovely hand-knitted jacket, her own, natch.

I'm making a crocheted jumper in a fetching watermelon colour. I'm doing it in a wool and silk blend, a discontinued yarn, of course. I say of course, because once I started it, it became clear that I would run out before I was done.

I did a search, and fortunately, I think I may have found some more in a tiny store in another state. I'll just have to be thoughtful about where in the garment I place the mismatching dye lots.

By the way, here's my husband's jumper with the brand new collar line, on its recipient. He says it's quite comfortable now, and very warm.

Peaceful Silk

I am not dead.

Neither am I Dead Body Woman, any longer.

It all got A Bit Much.

I did manage to rise, however, like a phoenix from the crematorial ashes of mortuary driving,

And now, transformed, I have become Lolly Woman. (a.k.a. Nut Woman. You can even call me Dried Fruit Woman, if you must, but it's not my title of choice).

Prepare for less wordy posts. The hours in Lolly Job are astoundingly long, and all of them are spent standing. But it's clean, it's friendly and, best of all....

it smells good (as opposed to smelling of decomposing body unnsuccessfully masked by faux-floral deodoriser, which is worse than anything you can possibly imagine).

I hereby promise never to complain about work, working conditions or anything else in the Entire Universe, ever again.

I am so relieved.

Stand by for lots and lots of lolly photos,

Because they are nothing if not pretty.

Besides, I'll have nothing much else to talk about, unless you'd like hear about how good it feels to get off my feet at the end of the day. No? I didn't think so.

Speaking of relieved, I finished something during my between-job meltdown.

It took me 5 years to complete,

And I'm perfectly delighted with it.

 

Peace.

Aurora Silk

A sudden plethora of lace-weight yarn in the blogosphere has prompted me to post my own.

Behold. Aurora 2 ply lace-weight 100% silk:

And no, I'm not being sponsored to sing the praises of the OM-chanting, peace-loving, environmentally-friendly Aurora, but I am open to suggestions. This yarn is just beautiful. You can feel the love.

I've been working on this particular epic for, um, about 2 years. I started it just before I moved house as a way of having something to do with my hands once I'd packed up the studio. The thought of not being able to access my myriad half-finished projects filled me with unspeakable panic.

And I carry it everywhere, because it wraps up small enough to fit in my (ever-ready Capricornian-sized) handbag, in the unforseeable event that the car breaks down (unlikely, these days, but used to be a regular occurrence), I get trapped in a tedious social situation (considerably more likely), or, God forbid, find myself somewhere that I am NOT ALLOWED TO SMOKE (very likely, indeed).

I suppose it's a wrap, of sorts. I've never really stopped to consider what I'm going to use it for, though I confess I have always imagined a baby swaddled in it, it's so soft and beautiful against the skin, and still has that gummy smell of raw silk, which reminds me of babies anyway.

The last time I made something like this was in 1993. I was in Greece, where every old yaya I encountered insisted I must be pregnant, because I was crocheting a baby blanket. I knew, (immaculate conception notwithstanding), that I wasn't pregnant at all, and didn't think for a minute that I was crocheting a baby blanket. I just thought they were all completely mad.

And then, unexpectedly, I found myself home in Melbourne, 6 weeks later.

And bugger me if I didn't get knocked up. Pronto.

Witches. The lot of them.

Of course, these days, being on the Dirty Harry side of 40, and about as likely to partner again as to vote for John Howard in the next Federal Election, any further pregnancies could be considered an extremely low order of probability.

So, perhaps I'll just pop this one in the tallboy and wait for Mym to take a trip to Greece when she's older.

Download pattern here.

Whipup

Wedding Jacket, originally uploaded by poppalina.

I confess, I'm a bit of a stats freak.

And there's nothing like a feature in Whipup , on a baby jacket you posted aeons ago, to send your stats clean through the roof.

Made me feel like this:

I got my name in lights with notcelebrity.co.uk

Mym's Baby Quilt

Bugger all craft this week, so I bring you another one from the stash.

It's a big baby quilt, I admit, and almost fits a single bed, which was the idea.

I had a lot of spare cotton left over from crocheting several gazillion sunhats. I had made a sunhat for Mym, covered in Irish roses, and then every man and his dog wanted one. I crocheted sunhats every night for a year, until the following Spring, some thieving bastard started having them made in Bali and importing them for less than it cost me to buy the materials.

Now you can buy them in petrol stations and $2 shops.

So ended that fashion venture.

But I was the first. I swear it.

Anyway, back to the quilt.

The whole thing:

 

And the details:

The pattern, which I call a double shell stich, set up over two rows. Very easy, really:

Edged with reinforced double crochet (or single crochet, if you're in the US), followed by an equally reinforced link stitch, ( I'm a girl who favours sturdy), ending with a stack of tassels, that seemed to take forever, but used up all the excess yarn :

and a super close - up, for anybody wanting to follow the pattern:

And last, but not least, the lining, made from a lovely old Sheridan sheet, sent over from my Godmother, who spilled wax on it, but couldn't bear to throw it away, and knew I would do something with it. Which I did:

It's really very heavy, when you add it all up, I'm glad I made it so sturdy, or the weight would have pulled it to pieces in no time. It's lovely to sleep under, and lives on my bed, of course, I can't trust Mym not to spill Milo on it yet. She can have it when she's grown up. 'For your Glory Box, darling', as my Mum would have said, facetious woman that she was. Translates to 'you can tear it from my cold, dead hands'.

Stitch patterns available here.